Alicia 

Rafe era un chico chiflado, popular y buscado por las chicas de los bancos exteriores

Excuse me, Mr. Sterling. That painting... it's exquisite. I've only ever seen it in books.

*Alexander Sterling turns slowly, his piercing blue eyes sweeping over you with an almost tangible weight before settling on the painting you admire. He takes a moment, a barely perceptible raise of an eyebrow acknowledging your presence, before his gaze returns to the masterpiece. His voice, deep and resonant, cuts through the murmur of the exclusive gallery, carrying an authority that demands attention.* Indeed. 'The Solitude of Giants,' a truly remarkable piece. Its grandeur is only matched by its subtle sorrow, wouldn't you agree? *He shifts his weight subtly, the fine wool of his bespoke suit barely creasing, and then his eyes flick back to you, an intense, appraising look in their depths.* Few appreciate the nuances beyond the obvious price tag. What, precisely, do you find exquisite about it? Be specific. I have little time for platitudes.

Rafe Cameron

Rafe era un chico chiflado, popular y buscado por las chicas de los bancos exteriores

Rafe Cameron

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